Endless Night
by obsessed1
Summary: Sheppard spends one night alone and in pain. Shep Whump. FINISHED
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine.

Up until thirty minutes ago the infirmary had been quiet. _That_ was until Colonel Sheppard limped in with Rodney hot on his tail. Sheppard had slammed his P90 down onto the nearest instrument tray and then had hopped up onto a bed with Mckay following him and apologising unremittingly. Sheppard was doing his best to ignore him. Beckett couldn't blame the man. He was a mess. His hair was matted with dirt and bits of tree, his chin was bleeding and snaking a trail down his neck, his arms and elbows were besieged with scratches and he was cradling his side with a pained expression on his face. Mckay didn't have a mark on him.

It was only when Beckett had managed to carefully extricate the Colonel from his tactical vest and lift his t-shirt did he see the collection of mottled bruising and swelling that was causing his discomfort.

As Beckett held Sheppard's x-ray up to the light, he could hear Mckay's attempt to get the Colonel to speak.

"You can't stay mad forever Sheppard."

The tension was palpable but Mckay ploughed on regardless.

"So I saw something and reacted."

More silence.

"I saved your life!"

The sound that came from Sheppard's mouth resembled a cross between a laugh and a groan.

"How was I to know that there was a hill behind that tree line?!"

"I don't _care_ what you say Rodney."

The tone of Sheppard's voice was bristling with carefully controlled anger. "You _pushed_ me!"

Beckett started towards the two men, but thought better of it when their voices rose and he pretended to examine the x-ray in closer detail while they continued to bicker. He had learned a long time ago not to get involved in their infamous rows.

"You didn't _even_ fall that far."

"It _felt_ far enough," the retort came back quick and easy.

"You're fine."

"Have you _looked_ at me lately?" Sheppard announced weakly and didn't hide a wince of pain.

Sheppard always underplayed his injuries. Beckett would usually have to play detective and watch for subtle nuances to assess his injuries. On occasion, he had even had to get reports from his team mates. Sheppard wasn't stupid. He just cared about everybody else's welfare to the detriment of his own health. This, however, was the first time that Beckett had ever witnessed him actually playing them up in a bid to guilt Mckay further.

Mckay sighed and then turned to Beckett. Too late. He was now involved.

"Isn't he?"

Beckett joined them and settled the x-ray onto the end of the bed. "Aye Rodney, he is."

"You see?" Mckay smiled and crossed his arms.

Sheppard rubbed his face wearily, careful to avoid the butterfly stitches under his chin.

"Although-"

Sheppard groaned and straightened tiredly, "I knew there would be an _although_."

Beckett patted him on the shoulder, "You've cracked one of your ribs and fractured another."

Sheppard bought his hand around and jabbed Mckay in the arm, "Dammit Rodney!"

"What?" Mckay rubbed his abused flesh and took a step backwards to avoid any following blows. Beckett couldn't remember a time when Sheppard had looked more pissed off than he did at that very moment.

"So that means-" Beckett began.

Sheppard had heard the spiel before and rolled his eyes before finishing the sentence, "-plenty of bed rest and painkillers, which _means_ I can't go off-world, thank you _Rodney_."

"It wasn't my fault!"

Despite the pain Sheppard was no doubt in, he twisted around before Beckett could stop him, "It was a Squirrel!"

Beckett was taken aback, "I'm sorry?"

Mckay had the grace to at least look flustered. "It looked bigger and….."

"It was a _squirrel_," Sheppard repeated as he turned away and held one hand to his side.

Beckett tried to stifle the laughter that threatened to erupt, "Well Colonel. You know the drill."

"Yeah," Sheppard slowly pushed himself off the infirmary bed and used it for support as he tested his abused side.

"There's no point me keeping you in the infirmary but I mean it. I want you to rest up and that means no helping Rodney and no sparring with Ronon. If you break your ribs doing something stupid, you could seriously injure yourself."

"I know Carson."

"You're going to be in a bit of pain for a while. I'll prescribe you some painkillers."

Sheppard shot Mckay a dirty look, "Great."

Beckett knew from experience that Sheppard hated taking pain medication. He had once told him that he didn't like the way it made him feel fuzzy. Protecting the people of Atlantis took precedence over everything else and if he wasn't clear headed then he was doing the city a disservice.

"If you have any difficulty breathing, double vision or dizziness then you need to tell me about it."

Sheppard reached for his P90 and nestled it under his arm. Mckay gave the weapon a panicked look as if he thought Sheppard might consider using it on him. Beckett didn't know how he hadn't already.

"It wasn't my fault!" Mckay said, as if by merely repeating it, he was at no fault.

"Rodney, just……" Sheppard raised his hand to silence the scientist, "don't do it again."

"What? Save your life?"

Sheppard palmed the pain meds that Beckett handed him and a smile tugged at his lips, "Push me down a hill again."

"Rodney. Can you make sure that Colonel Sheppard makes it back to his quarters in one piece and Colonel-"

Sheppard nodded, "Bed rest…I got it."

Sheppard unhurriedly walked away with Mckay holding his hands out behind him as if he were escorting a toddler taking his first steps.

A few minutes later and silence was restored to the infirmary.

----------------------

As Sheppard walked towards his room, Mckay was still tracing his every step, and it was irritating him. Despite the pain in his side, he felt fine and the idea of being holed up in his room for the next few weeks was not looking attractive. He hated being on the side lines. Injury had never stopped him before and he would be damned if a few cracked ribs were going to keep him from his job. No, he'd go back to his room, have a nice hot shower and then continue to work. Other than sleeping in his room, he was hardly ever in there. He always found something else to keep him preoccupied. The thought of being stuck there, with nothing other than his thoughts or attempts to read War and Peace filled him with a pervasive feeling of dread. What if something happened?

He used the wall for support as he walked and zoned in and out of Mckay's diatribe.

"You'll be fine in a few days. I've got some things in the lab that you can help me with if you get really bored and we'll all visit. Well, Teyla and Ronon will visit. I'll try and come by when I can with food and stuff, but you know, I leave that lab for more than three minutes and it's at risk of getting blown up or-"

Sheppard wasn't unfamiliar with the feeling of annoyance that came with being Rodney's friend. In fact, he had gotten quite used to it. It was just part of the great tapestry that was Mckay. On this occasion his annoyance stemmed from Mckay actually trying to protect _him._ He had envisaged a threat and pushed _him_ out of the way and that just wasn't right. Sheppard should have been the one doing the protecting. He realised that for all of the time they spent together, Mckay had become braver, and maybe, just maybe, he didn't need him quite so much out in the field. It made him feel useless, in the same way that being laid up made him feel.

Sucking in a breath, he felt his heart begin to hammer and a spasm of pain made him momentarily light-headed.

"Are you okay?"

Dammit! He realised he must have looked a little peaky because Mckay was rushing to stand in front of his face and was gripping him by the arm to steady him.

Sheppard batted him away, shook his head resolutely and then strode on as if nothing had happened. He was after all, _fine_.

"You don't have to walk me back to my room Rodney."

Mckay snorted and fell into step beside him.

"Carson told me to get you back to your room. So that's what I'm doing."

Sheppard sighed and readjusted his grip on his P90, "It's not much further."

"And if you pass out in the hall it will seem a lot further." Mckay reached out for his arm, "Now come on."

Sheppard wrenched his arm away and let out a hiss of pain, "I don't _need_ you to baby-sit me."

A flicker of emotion passed over Mckay's face. Hurt. Regret. It made Sheppard feel like shit.

"Sorry, I'm just…." Words failed him.

Mckay looked him up and down, his eyes stalling on any scratches or bruising that were evident and then said, "Come on."

The doors to his quarters slid open and the lights came on automatically as he entered. He tossed his P90 onto his bed, his tactical vest followed shortly and he sank down next to them.

Mckay scanned the room thoughtfully, rocking on his heels as he took in Sheppard's appearance.

"You can leave now."

Mckay nodded, "Are you going to be okay?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes, stood back up without wincing and then strode towards his bathroom, "I'm going to have a shower and then I'm going to –" His words were cut off when he heard something squelch underfoot. He lifted a boot and then palmed on the light to his washroom. The floor was soaking wet and had bled through to his bedroom.

"What the-"

Mckay joined him at the door and pulled a disgusted face, "What is that?"

Sheppard examined the water closely, "I don't want to know."

"I'll call someone."

Sheppard suddenly realised how tired he was feeling. The thought of having someone else in his room, attempting to fix whatever had caused the mess, filled him with more irritation. He waved a hand.

"Ah forget it."

"It's okay, I can-"

"I _said_ forget it," Sheppard pushed with a little more vigour than he intended, "You've done _quite_ enough for today.

"Well, I'll be down in my lab if you need me." Mckay turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

Sheppard licked his lips, thought twice about saying what was on his mind and then said it anyway, "You disappointed me today Rodney."

Mckay stopped in his tracks.

"What you did was incredibly stupid."

Mckay threw a look over his shoulder.

"Just…._go_," Sheppard muttered.

Mckay opened his mouth, went to say something and then obviously thought better of it because he silently headed for the door and left without another word.

_Sheppard, you're an asshole._

Sheppard walked back over to his bed, removed whatever was littering it and then slowly bent to pull off his boots. The mere effort left him gasping and cursing and when the last boot was finally off his foot and his trousers had joined them, he slid backwards and into his bed.

He turned towards the window and could see the last light of day beginning to slip away. Seven o'clock and he was in bed. _Great_. He felt like a petulant child that had been told he couldn't stay up.

-----------

Lieutenant Abernaffy hesitated before he pushed the bell to Colonel Sheppard's quarters. He was feeling disquietly nervous having only arrived in Atlantis five days ago, and he didn't know if what he was about to do was appropriate. Major Lorne was off-world; Doctor Weir was having a late conference and the ongoing fight in the commissary needed to be broken up, or someone needed to be disciplined or something.

His finger neared the bell and he considered walking away. _No_. This was the right thing to do.

He depressed the button and waited to be called in. Nothing. He knew the Colonel was in his quarters. Had been told be several personnel that he had been told to get bed rest after an injury off-world, but he had also been assured that it wasn't serious. Perhaps that was the reason for his nervousness. The Colonel was probably sleeping.

Abernaffy activated his earpiece, "Major Adams?"

"_Have you got the Colonel yet? These two are not backing down. Someone's going to get hurt."_

Abernaffy cleared his throat, "Yeah. I'm coming."

Without a further thought, he opened the door and entered the darkened room.

"Sir?"

He could see Colonel Sheppard lying on top of his covers, one arm over the edge of the bed, and his chest rising and falling slowly in the moonlight.

"Sir?" he whispered as he got closer and felt even guiltier as the prospect of waking the man beckoned.

The Colonel shifted but didn't wake.

Abernaffy half wondered if it was proper to be standing over the Colonel as he lay there exposed in his boxer shorts.

"Sir!" he said a little louder and shook him by the arm.

There was a split second in which nothing happened. Then the Colonel whipped his hand away and shot upwards instantly muttering an "Oh fuck!" as he reached for the side lamp. Abernaffy noted that his hand was hovering over his side and that he was covered in a thin layer of sweat. He was already beginning to doubt whether he had in fact, done the right thing.

"What are doing in here Lt?" Sheppard asked in a gruff voice as he blatantly tried to even out his breathing.

Abernaffy managed an apologetic smile and whispered, "I'm sorry to wake you Sir, but…."

The Colonel continued to sit upright, his face slightly flushed, "Why are you whispering?"

The Colonel hooked his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled a face. He was definitely in pain and he had just awoken him to it.

Abernaffy cleared his throat, "Sorry, I uh didn't want to-"

"Wake me?" Sheppard asked with a bemused look, "Well, I'm awake now."

"There is a…..I mean……two men are fighting in the commissary and Major Lorne is off-world and-"

Sheppard stilled him with a raised finger, "And you couldn't call someone else?"

"I…uh…" He realised that the Colonel was trying to reach for his trousers and picked them up for him, "I didn't know what the right procedure was. I got here a few days ago and some of the others said I should get you."

The Colonel sighed and nodded.

"I'm sorry that I woke you."

Trousers on and bare feet slipped into his untied boots; the Colonel nodded and followed him towards the door, "You did the right thing Lt."

-------------------

The fight was still going on when Sheppard entered the commissary and a crowd of people had encircled the quarrelling men as if by creating a barrier they could keep it contained.

Abernaffy cleared the way for Sheppard and as people began to realise he was there, they broke away from the fight, leaving Lieutenant McGillan and Science Officer Martins exposed.

Martins had a split lip and made another attempt to deck the soldier.

Sheppard stepped between them, outstretched his arms and Martins jarred into him, realised who he was and then quickly stepped backwards.

Sheppard felt an explosion of pain in his side that refused to subside and tried for all his worth to keep a yell bidden.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" he shouted and watched as the group surrounding them dispersed.

McGillian took a step back and stood bolt upright, where as Martins simply wiped his lips with the back of his hand and locked eyes with the soldier.

"Why were you fighting?" Sheppard asked in a voice he generally reserved for Mckay.

McGillian looked suitably abashed and regarded his superior with a grim smile, "I'm sorry Sir. We were just having a disagreement. It got out of hand."

Sheppard couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Too right it did! You-"

"What is going on?"

Mckay stalked into the room and came to stand beside Sheppard, hands on hips and with an equally annoyed expression turned to Martins, "I asked you to get me coffee _twenty_ minutes ago!"

Sheppard rolled his eyes and gave Mckay a '_you have got to be kidding me'_ look.

"If you haven't _noticed_ Rodney they were-"

"And what are you doing out of bed?" Mckay added.

Sheppard embarrassedly found his eyebrows shooting up in surprise and found that all eyes seemed to have diverted to him. Under scrutiny, Sheppard stood up straighter and raised his chin.

"Why do think I'm out of bed?" Sheppard shot back.

"I'd like to know the answer to that as well Colonel."

Sheppard groaned and turned towards the voice.

Doctor Beckett walked straight over to him and looked him up and down with a critical eye, "You should be in bed. What are you doing here?"

"That's what I asked," Mckay said as he regarded Martin's, "Have you been in a fight?"

"That's what I was _trying_ to tell you!" Sheppard said and crossed his arms. He hissed on feeling another ache from his ribs.

"Who called you up here?" Beckett probed as he looked over Martin's face.

"I did," Lt Abernaffy stated, holding up a finger.

"Well you should have known better. The Colonel is under strict orders to remain in bed while he heals. He should not have been disturbed."

Sheppard gave Beckett a horrified look and quickly countered with, "You did the right thing Lt."

"Aye, you _would_ say that," Beckett admonished, "You didn't need to be here."

"Well obviously I did," Sheppard answered, "My Lieutenant needs disciplining."

"It wasn't my fault Sir, Martin's-"

Sheppard tried to resist the urge to wipe the bead of sweat that was pricking his hairline, "_Don't_ finish that sentence. I'll deal with you later."

"Your lip is fine, just put some ice on it to reduce the swelling. McGillan are you injured?"

The Soldier shook his head.

"Lt, the Colonel will deal with you in the morning."

The soldier looked over to Sheppard and he nodded, "Tomorrow."

"Now Colonel, I will walk you back to your room."

There was nothing more humiliating than being frog marched back to his room by Beckett. Okay, so his ribs _were_ beginning to hurt like a bitch as his adrenaline levels wore down and he _was_ starting to get a headache but it still shouldn't prevent him from doing his job.

"That was uncalled for Doc," Sheppard grouched as he walked.

"Colonel, you're going to stay in your room. You're lucky I'm not making you stay in the infirmary."

Sheppard side stepped a few straggling personnel and sighed, "Remind me why I'm not there already?"

Beckett fell into step beside him, "I would like nothing more, but a few staff have come down with a flu-like virus and the last thing you need with those busted ribs is to get a chest infection right now."

Sheppard kept his arm close to his side to stop it from jarring as he walked, "I still need to do my job Doc."

"Aye I know, and it will be waiting for you when you get up in the morning. But for tonight, I want you to rest up."

"I feel fine," Sheppard muttered through gritted teeth.

He didn't know why he always lied. In truth, he was in pain. He just didn't like surrendering to injury. He needed to be mobile.

"I know you think I'm being –"

"Over bearing-"

"Over cautious," Beckett affirmed, "But those ribs needs time to heal. I don't dish out medical advice for the hell of it Colonel."

Sheppard was too tired to argue. He'd had a hell of a day, starting right from the moment that Mckay had barged into his room and told him that he just _had_ to go back to MX345 to investigate a strange anomaly. The two of them had gone alone and the only anomalous things that they had found were those weird squirrel type creatures.

They arrived at his door and headed into his darkened room. The lights came up and Beckett waited for Sheppard to go over to his bed with crossed arms.

"Okay Carson, you can go now. I'm pretty sure I can tuck myself into bed."

Sheppard lowered himself down onto his bed carefully.

"I'm just going to wait until you're settled and then I'll leave you to it."

Beckett walked over to his bathroom in search of a glass, "What's happened here?"

Sheppard shrugged.

"We can get that sorted tomorrow."

"Yea-" Sheppard's earpiece activated and a voice started to filter through.

He held a finger up and went to answer, but before he could Beckett ripped it out of his ear and passed him a glass of water.

"Carson, I _need_ to take that."

"Who was it?"

"Lorne. He's just back from his mission and I need to take this briefing."

Beckett considered the request and then passed the earpiece back to Sheppard.

Sheppard smiled and replaced the earpiece, "Thank you." But before he could answer, Beckett was activating his own.

"Elizabeth…. you inform Major Lorne that the Colonel will take the briefing tomorrow, from his room….yes and-"

Sheppard rubbed his face wearily and sighed.

"Colonel Sheppard is not to be disturbed this evening. He's recuperating. Yes," Beckett kept his eyes locked on Sheppard's, "Aye, his room is off limits."

When Beckett had finished running his affairs, Sheppard groaned, "Doc!"

"Don't worry Colonel. If anything happens you'll be the first to know."

"Since when did you become even more of a mother hen?" Sheppard groused as Beckett passed him his pain meds.

"Since you don't know how to look after your own well being. Now, take two of those."

Sheppard eyed the pills with a disgusted look, "I don't need these."

"Yes you do," Beckett instructed in an even voice, "They'll take the edge off the pain."

"And make me feel………."

Beckett raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"-weird." Sheppard finished.

Sheppard realised that he wasn't going to get a moment's peace until Beckett had seen him take the pills, so he popped them into his mouth and washed them down with his water. Then, just to top it off, he poked out his tongue, "See, gone. Happy?"

Beckett placed the glass on his side table and smiled, "Very. I'll see to it that no-one disturbs you tonight. Get some sleep."

Sheppard nodded, sidled back into bed and angrily hauled the covers over his legs.

-----------------

"Is he okay?"

Beckett nearly jumped out of his skin to find Mckay standing outside Sheppard's door and clutching his laptop to his chest.

"Aye, he's fine Rodney. He's just gone to bed."

Mckay peered over his shoulder and at the door, "Oh good."

He took a step forwards and found a hand planted on top of the laptop.

"Where are you going?"

Mckay looked at Beckett as if he had asked the most ridiculous question ever to be asked, "I'm going to talk to him."

"Oh no, you're not."

"Carson, I'm just going to go over today's mission findings with him and then I'll be out of his hair."

"No."

Mckay snorted.

"Okay, I don't want to go over the mission findings," an uncomfortable look passed over his face, "I want him to apologise for what he said to me earlier."

Beckett was tired and beginning to lose patience, "And what was that?"

"He told me that I was stupid for pushing him out of the way."

"You were."

"Carson!"

"He's there to protect you. That's why he carries the big gun," Beckett patted Mckay on the shoulder.

"I don't care. I shouldn't have to apologise for-"

"Pushing him down a hill and busting his ribs?"

"For saving him….even if, it was a little misguided."

"Rodney, leave the man alone. It's bad enough that Atlantis can't seem to function without him for five minutes without-"

Mckay opened his mouth and gasped, "Uh, I think you've got Sheppard confused with _me_. Atlantis can't run without me for five minutes."

"Rodney. Let him sleep. It can wait till morning."

He could tell what Mckay was thinking.

"If I find you have woken him up I _will_ make sure you're next physical is very physical."

Mckay knew better to mess with Beckett. His threats were never misplaced.

"Fine."

"So, you'll let him sleep."

"Yes."

"I mean it."

"Yes. It can wait till tomorrow."

"Thank you Rodney."

----------------

Sheppard didn't know how long he had slept when he awoke in the dead of the night. All he knew was that he felt like crap. He was too hot, his brain felt muddled and he was incredibly thirsty.

His side had gone stiff and as he reached for, what was now an empty glass, he sighed melodramatically. He lay in bed, eyes open, for another few minutes while he debated whether or not he really was thirsty or if he could just drop off to sleep again. The only problem was that the more he thought about it, the thirstier he got. It was like a scratch. It started off as an ignorable sensation and then spiralled into a full blown irritation.

Sheppard kicked the bed covers away with his feet and slowly started to sit up. He felt like an invalid. The pain meds had set in so his pain levels were manageable, but it didn't help with the other symptoms of the medication. His arms felt rubbery and his head reeled when he got into an upright position. It was if he wasn't quite there. His own body felt weird and foreign to him. His mind didn't feel as sharp as it usually did and his thoughts meandered drunkenly. In fact, he just felt plain drunk. It was another reason that he never let himself drink too much when he was in the presence of others. The lack of control that followed made him feel vulnerable. It broke down barriers that he had put in place for himself and he worried what he might say or think or feel without them.

Sheppard managed to get himself into an upright position and waited until the room had stopped spinning before he took a wobbly step forwards.

He sighed and reached back over to his side table to retrieve the empty glass. The simple act of forgetting that receptacle just reaffirmed why he hated having his senses dulled by pain medication.

He stepped forwards and it was on his third stride that he suddenly felt himself falling. It was in that one instant that his mind decided to crystallise. _The floor was wet! _ Time slowed as he fell. On impact he heard the glass smash and his elbow crunched into the shards as he followed. His back connected with the hard floor and he heard a sickening crack sound.

In the silent stillness that followed, he wondered if he had cracked his skull open. A few seconds later and his diagnosis was shattered by an explosion of pain in his chest that had him gasping for air and a metallic taste surging into his mouth.

He lay prone, in pain, his mind numbed and confused and realised that nobody was coming.

TBC……………..


	2. Chapter 2

Mckay stared at the computer screen in front of him and reached out blindly to grab for his coffee. As soon as he took a sip, he spat it back into his mug with a disgusted expression and looked around the lab to find someone to go refill it. This time with _hot_ coffee. The lab was quiet and even though there were a few other scientists milling about working he couldn't quite summon enough energy to instruct one of them to get him more caffeine. He toiled with the idea of getting some more himself; that way he could swing passed Sheppard's room and just poke his head in. After all, he was responsible for injuring him, so he was doing his teamly duty by making sure he was okay.

An image of Carson with a big needle stalled that idea.

Becoming friends with Sheppard had accustomed him to feeling guilt. Not something that he was entirely familiar with. He didn't even know what had made him push Sheppard out of the way. It wasn't as if he was brave, but some of Sheppard's self sacrificing heroics must have rubbed off on him because he hadn't even thought about what he was actually doing. It's not like he was even intending to fight off what was coming out of the trees. He just…_pushed_ Sheppard out of the way and planned to follow him. Only, he _saw_ the drop behind the trees as he went through the tree line and watched helplessly as Sheppard tumbled downwards.

Sheppard had landed awkwardly and shouted an angry, "Rodney!" but then he had still got up, showed no sign of injury, primed his P90 and was heading back up the slope to his defence. Nothing stopped the man. He was bruised and battered and _still_ he was managing to command and berate Rodney at the same time. It was only when they were heading back to the gate did Sheppard actually start to hold his side and look like he was in discomfort.

Mckay reached up to his earpiece and then thought better of it. Guilty or not, he could apologise in the morning with pudding from the commissary.

-------------------

Nobody was coming. Pride didn't even want anyone to find him. But the truth of the matter was that he was actually screwed.

Sheppard tried to assess the damage as he lay in the dark and all his mind could focus on was the fact that he was soaked through with potentially germ infested water and that he had just committed a comedy act worthy of endless ridicule. After all Beckett had warned him about and he had just slipped. It was stupid, senseless and pathetically ironic. He'd never live it down if he survived this.

He experimentally wiggled his fingers and toes and was relieved when they moved, even if they did feel completely disconnected from his body. His elbow was stinging and as he tried to lift it, he could feel something warm and sticky there which he knew _had_ to be blood. He'd just fallen onto glass. He wouldn't have expected anything less with the luck he was having. Which brought his mind back to the water. What if it wasn't just water? The thought made him feel sick. Even worse than slipping in his own room after countless warnings from Beckett, was the thought that he might get an infection from the fetid water that was surrounding him.

He could hear the conversation in his head as he lay there.

"_Why are you in the infirmary Colonel?"_

"_Oh I slipped on some water in my room and got infected by faecal bacteria. Yes…it __**is**__ eating away at my flesh."_

Sheppard mentally ripped that image out of his brain and tried to focus on what was really important.

The most concerning aspect of his situation was his breathing. Every intake of breath seemed to fall short and even the pain meds couldn't mask the twinge that strafed across his chest. If his ribs weren't broken before, they certainly were now.

"Shit," he tried to move and found the effort utterly exhausting.

His mind was screaming that "this wasn't good." And Sheppard would be inclined to agree with himself. He knew from experience that rib injuries could complicate easily.

"I shouldn't have got up this morning," he said into the darkness.

It was more to keep himself alert than a vain hope that someone would hear him. His room was out of the way and you didn't walk past it unless you really had to. It was the reason he had chosen it in the first place. With the benefit of hindsight, it was a stupid decision.

_Concentrate._

His thoughts were sluggish and his movements were sloppy and uncoordinated. It was hard to find purchase on the slippery floor and instead of getting remotely upright he just squirmed, cursed some more and then dropped his head back onto the floor.

To add insult to injury, he was still thirsty.

--------------

Mckay deliberately walked past Sheppard's room and didn't stop. Okay, so he did stop very briefly but then he pushed onwards because Sheppard didn't deserve his apology. He had been rude and irritable and saying that he had disappointed him was just wrong on so many levels. How many times had Mckay risen to a crisis and got their collective posteriors out of trouble? Countless times.

The very fact that Mckay even considered apologising to him seemed laughable as he entered the transporter.

How could he have disappointed him? And why did he even care? He was Rodney Mckay. Rodney Mckay cared for number one; at least, that's what he had been led to believe by others for so many years.

He entered the commissary and was surprised to find Teyla and Ronon sitting in the corner.

He grabbed a coffee and slunk down into a seat beside them halting any conversation they might have been having.

"What are you guys doing up so late?"

Teyla leaned forwards and was about to speak when Mckay continued regardless.

"So I guess you heard about our little mishap off-world? It wasn't my fault."

Mckay reached forwards to pick up one of the bagels that were positioned between them and Ronon's hand clamped down onto his.

"I heard you pushed Sheppard down a hill." The tone of his voice was chiding, a feat which Mckay wouldn't have even thought possible.

"How is the Colonel?" Teyla asked.

Mckay sighed and rocked back in his chair, "He's fine. He didn't fall far."

"From what I heard, you did a real number on him," Ronon reached for a bagel and tore a piece off it before shoving into his mouth.

"Hey, it's not like I beat him up. You regularly beat the crap out of him."

"That's called sparring."

"You dislocated his thumb a few months back."

Ronon shrugged, "He didn't block properly."

"Look, I don't know why everyone is getting so hung up with the fact that I pushed him. I didn't see the hill. Anyway, you weren't there. How was the mainland by the way? Did you manage to get anymore of that tea?"

Teyla met his gaze and smiled softly, "I'm sure Colonel Sheppard will make a swift recovery."

Mckay waved away her concern, "Yes, yes….the tea?"

"Yes Rodney. We got some more tea."

"Good, because it helps me sleep."

Teyla yawned and arched her back.

"Why are you up again?" Mckay sloshed some of his coffee into his mouth.

"I could not sleep." Teyla seemed to look slightly embarrassed.

Ronon shared a look with her and dropped his bagel, "She says something feels off."

Teyla regarded him with a curt look, "Yes, I do."

Mckay sat bolt upright, "Not the wraith?"

"No," Teyla shook her head and seemed to be clearing away any tiredness, "No, just…….I cannot explain it. Something doesn't feel right."

"I'm sure its nothing," Mckay answered quickly.

"She's worried about Sheppard," Ronon clarified.

Mckay wasn't surprised. They had always been close, not in a way that Sheppard would open up to her, not even in a romantic way, but they had an understanding.

"Ronon."

"Sheppard's fine. He's all tucked up in bed. Carson made sure of that." Mckay checked his watch and wondered whether Sheppard was really in bed or whether he would be sitting up and trying to adjust the rota for the next week. He had a habit of disregarding medical advice at the best of times and Mckay knew that if he wasn't already sat up in bed with a laptop, he would be covertly trying to organise the security of Atlantis while he was out of action.

"Yes," Teyla nodded, "I'm sure you are right."

"We could always go and check. Even if he's in bed, he won't be asleep," Mckay checked his watch and said, "Usually by now he would be doing his last sweep around the city."

Teyla seemed to consider the idea, but just as quickly disregarded it, "No. I'm sure it's nothing." She stood up and rubbed at her neck, "Good night."

----------------------

The pain meds were making it difficult to concentrate. He needed to stay focused because he had a feeling that the situation he was in, although outwardly comedic, was inwardly very serious. His breathing was definitely getting worse and his vision was beginning to speckle with white dots. He had been trying to stave off unconsciousness for as long as he could because he needed to move. If he could just get to his earpiece then he could radio for help and this would all be over. It wasn't that straightforward. Every time he tried to move it felt as if someone was plunging a knife into his side.

He felt helpless. It wasn't a feeling he was used to and if he could draw comparison to a time when he did, then all he had to do was think about earlier when Mckay had pushed him out of the way.

No, focus! He had to stop letting his thoughts interfere with what he was trying to do, and that was moving. If he stayed here any longer then his body was going to shut down on him. He was already starting to feel cold and was shivering as the cool air of his room caught on his skin.

"Hey!" he called out into the darkness.

Who was he kidding? Nobody was going to hear him.

He was going to die here. No. He shook his head to eliminate that thought and regretted the move instantly. He'd banged his head pretty hard and it just served to fuel his every growing headache. Not only that, but it made him feel nauseous. Throwing up while he was laying flat on his back was not an option.

"Hey!" The effort of shouting out left him choking for air and as he dragged in one ineffectual breath after another, his vision greyed and he could hear the rush of blood in his ears.

"This is damn right problematic," he slurred.

He _had_ to get to his earpiece. Radio for help. If he could just-………….he sank back down to the wet floor again and slammed his fist into the ground. This was all Mckay's fault. If he hadn't tried to save him from nothing then….._no_…….it wasn't the time to be thinking about _that_. It was the time to act. He had to act because nobody was going to come in and rescue him. He had to help himself and that meant that he had to get up and get to his earpiece.

With one deep breath, he pulled his arms back and pressed his weight down onto them to push himself up. His arms were shaking and he managed to get up onto his uninjured elbow.

He gasped as something in his chest moved and at the same time his breathing seemed to get worse. It felt as though all of the air was rushing out of him, like he couldn't get enough oxygen.

His vision was swimming; he tried to turn and reached out with arm towards his side table as if by merely thinking it, he could get over to his radio.

The white dots were swarming, the darkness of the room overtook him and he collapsed back down onto the wet floor.

-----------------------

Okay, so Carson was probably going to kill him. Mckay had decided to go back to his lab, but he had made a little detour, a detour that had led him to stand right outside of Sheppard's door. He didn't even know why he was there. He just felt like he needed to apologise. For what, he wasn't really sure. For trying to save the mans life? For pushing him? It's just that he had never seen Sheppard so angry, well…if he discounted the whole Doranda affair, apart from that Sheppard had never looked so hurt before. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

He blamed Teyla and Ronon and the way that they had looked at him.

He depressed the bell and cringed inwardly at the thought of Sheppard waking up, dragging himself out of bed while he was in pain, talking to him while he was as high as a kite on pain meds and not really aware of it and then getting ratted out to Beckett.

Only, the door didn't slide open to reveal a dishevelled looking Colonel, it remained closed.

----------------------

Something stirred Sheppard from unconsciousness and it took a minute before he remembered why he was lying flat out on his back with a tight band across his chest. He pulled in a shallow breath and continued to lie in silence.

Something had woken him up. His thought processes were less precise, he was slow to realise that it actually meant someone was outside.

He managed to twist his head and could see a shadow under his door. He opened to his mouth to speak and was surprised when his voice was non-existant. He cleared his throat, could taste blood, and called out in a raspy voice.

------------------

Mckay was about to depress the bell again when his earpiece activated and one of his science staff started to blab on about one of the devices they had found and a strange sound it was emitting.

"I leave you people alone for one second and you try and destroy everything in sight. Really, am I working with a bunch of clowns?" Mckay raised his voice over the sound of the whining in the background and placed his other finger in his ear to try and concentrate on the scientist's voice.

-------------------

"_Well try turning it off! Who even activated it?"_

Sheppard could hear Rodney outside his door and he smiled faintly. Finally, somebody was going to find him and end his misery.

He licked his lips and tried to get his words out, "Rod…ney!"

"_You're all idiots."_ The voice boomed through his door and Sheppard had never been so happy to hear Mckay whining.

Sheppard tried to move and found his atrophied limbs unresponsive, "Rodney!"

"_Fine." _The voice was slightly muffled but he could hear him, so why couldn't Mckay hear him._ "I'm coming."_

"No," Sheppard tried to get up despite great pain, "Rodney, hear me."

"_Just don't touch anything else."_

Sheppard groaned and tried to reach out for something, anything to throw at the door to get Mckay's attention.

He moved his arms blindly and his shaking hand connected with one of his boots.

"Ha!" Sheppard muttered in triumph.

He wrapped one of his fingers around the boot and flung it at as hard as he could, but by the time it connected and made a solid thud sound, the shadow had moved from beside the door and he realised sadly that Mckay had already gone and that he was alone once more.

--------------------

He'd been lying there for hours. He could tell. Just by the way the moonlight was moving across his room. His breathing had worsened but the pain had gone which was no consolation because he knew that was bad. It meant that his body was shutting down on him. He turned his head to his side and coughed as something pooled at the back of his throat. He felt like he was drowning. His own body suffocating him in periodical spasms.

It was hard to stay awake. The intangible thread of unconsciousness kept tugging at him.

He wanted to laugh. This had all started with a squirrel. Mckay trying to save _him_ from a _squirrel_. The situation, if he thought about it, was funny but his reasoning behind being angry wasn't. Maybe he should have explained that to Rodney instead of just of lashing out. It wasn't really about him pushing him out of the way to protect himself. It was the fact the Mckay had become willing to do that for him. As much as he hated to admit it, and he really did, he had grown kind of fond of Mckay in a "_I want to kill you, you're like the brother I never wanted"_ kind of a way. He had come close to someone, only for them to be prepared to die for him. Why become close to someone at all if they were just going to up and leave you or die eventually?

He liked the distance, he liked the impenetrable barrier that he used to have in place, he liked his cold calculated side because at least he wasn't relying on anyone but himself. If he died, no big deal, if someone he had let get remotely close died-. He cut the thought off prematurely.

Pain medication. It made him think like this, made him vulnerable, too vulnerable. He needed to compartmentalise. This wasn't the time.

"No," he told himself firmly and his voice came out as a whisper.

No. He had to stay focused. He couldn't think about why he was angry. He couldn't because then he would have to admit why he was angry and he didn't have time to relive the past.

-------------------------

_Sheppard hadn't even considered the repercussions as he pulled out of his assigned flight path. The extraction team were taking too long to make a decision and while they sat on their asses and talked strategy, a good man, the last of his living friends was lying out in the middle of enemy territory._

_He wasn't defying orders; he was just exercising a little initiative. _

_He was supposed to be sweeping the north border, mapping the ground below him and then taking new tactical data back to base. Only, he had heard the developments over the radio, held out as long as he could and decided while he was in the area where Holland had supposedly disappeared, he'd be damned if he was just going to fly home._

_His rear rotor had been taken out by an RPG. A lucky shot. He managed a semi-controlled landing in which one of his ribs cracked and jumped out before all hell broke loose and his chopper burst into flames. Adrenaline was fuelling him and before he knew what was happening he was running off in the direction of Holland's last sighting._

_Their Chopper had gone down too. It was only dumb luck that Sheppard hadn't been with him in the first place. They'd trained together. Flew most of their missions together. Played leisurely games of poker together in which Sheppard always won. Counting cards might have had something to do with it. That morning, a new batch of recruits were assigned and Holland had drawn the short straw to take the newbies out on their first reccie. Sheppard hadn't envied him._

_When Sheppard had heard over the airwaves that he had dropped off the radar, he had felt a surge of panic._

_Sheppard, against horrendous odds, had managed to locate Holland. He was alone, injured and hiding out in an old downed chopper._

_They'd made a good attempt reaching the border, walked for hours and hours through the sweltering desert heat. They were both dehydrated with only two 9 mils and a P90 between them. They talked, tried to keep each other going, shared things that would never be spoken of again. For all intents and purposes, it looked like they were going to make it._

_Only, they had been surprised. One insurgent had followed them. _

_Sheppard was holding Holland up, supporting him on his crooked leg as he tried to reposition his weapon. _

_They had reached the top of a sandy ridge, their base not much further. It had been within their grasp. They had made it._

_Sheppard had been goading Holland to hurry up, still trying to get him motivated at the mention of buying the first three rounds in Khandhar, when the insurgent had held up a gun and pulled the trigger._

_Sheppard, in that split second, had shared a look with Holland that said "Don't do it!"_

_And that bastard! Holland stepped in front of him and rammed into him, catching him off-guard in his bruised side. _

_Sheppard had lost balance when their equilibrium changed and tumbled down the sandy ridge. He caught a glimpse of Holland as he collapsed in the sand above him._

_Holland was screaming for him to get the hell out of there._

_Sheppard was frozen in place by a mixture of disbelief and outright stubbornness. If he ran he was leaving Holland to the enemy._

_He had no choice. He ran._

Sheppard stared up at the ceiling and felt his eyelids fluttering as his heart rate slowed and he grew colder. He couldn't move. He felt paralysed, peaceful even, he felt as if he was dying.

Breathing was a struggle. He was so incredibly tired. He was trying to work out how long he had been lying there when an urgent beeping sound roused him.

His watch.

It was morning.

Time to get up.


	3. Chapter 3

Mckay yawned loudly and tipped his waste into the commissary's trash. It was six in the morning and he was going to get a few hours sleep before he was summoned to avert another crisis.

_Technically_, it was now morning and _theoretically_ that meant that Sheppard would have had a full nights bed rest so he decided to stop by his quarters on the way to his own.

Sheppard would have had time to think about yesterday, about the way he had been so rude to him, and cool down.

When he got to Sheppard's room he couldn't quite explain the unpleasant feeling he felt in his gut. Something just felt off and he couldn't help but remember what Teyla had said the night before about Sheppard.

He depressed the bell and waited for the door to open, tapping his feet impatiently. He checked his watch. Sheppard usually started his shifts at half five and ill or not he was generally up – even if he was in bed.

It was strange not to have the customary, "_Go away!"_ or "_You better have food with you!"_ response and that just served to make him feel even more nervous. Something _was_ wrong.

Without a further thought, he bypassed the door controls and stepped into Sheppard's room.

His first scan of the bed showed the Colonel wasn't in it and he wondered whether Sheppard had stubbornly gone to work or for his morning run.

He sat down on Sheppard's bed and yawned again. Between running around the lab supervising his idiot minions and expending way too much energy worrying about Sheppard, he found that his weariness was catching up with him.

He was just about to get up and leave when something caught his attention. Two bare feet were poking out from beside the bed.

It was only when he investigated further did he find Sheppard lying on the floor.

Mckay was instantly assaulted by a feeling of guilt. How long had he been lying there?

"Sheppard!"

Mckay knelt down beside him and gave him a shake.

"Wake up!"

He checked for a pulse with shaking hands and found one stuttering beneath his fingertips.

"Sheppard!" he shook him again, "Oh, what have you done _this_ time!"

Sheppard's eyelids fluttered open briefly and he stared up at the ceiling with a dazed expression before turning to Mckay.

"Rodn-" he coughed and reached a hand up to his side, "Took you….long enough."

"What is it? Is it your ribs?"

Sheppard didn't answer. He was gasping for air.

Mckay activated his earpiece, "Carson!"

Sheppard took in a strained breath. Mckay did not like the look of this one bit. But then, why _would_ he? His friend was lying on the floor choking to death. What was there to _like_ exactly?

"_Aye Rodney. What can I do for __you?"_

"I need a medical team to Sheppard's quarters now!"

"_What's happened?"_ Beckett's tone quickly switched from indifference to worry.

"I _don't_ know. I just found him on the floor and he doesn't look good."

"_I'm on my way.__ What's his condition?"_

"I don't know, he's……." Mckay scanned the area around Sheppard and saw the streaks of blood from his elbow, "Oh my god! He's bleeding."

Mckay managed to pull him out of his fugue long enough to realise that Sheppard was tugging on his sleeve and shaking his head.

"What is it?"

Sheppard managed to rotate his arm to show him the extent of the damage before clamping eyes shut and concentrating on staying alive.

"He's cut his elbow…….the blood's not….."

"_Calm down Rodney. Is he breathing?"_

"Kind of," Mckay felt utterly useless. This wasn't a situation he could take control of. It wasn't scientific. There were no numbers to crunch or simulations to run. This was Sheppard's life and there was no calculating how it was going to turn out. He didn't know that to do.

"Just get here quickly Carson!"

Sheppard had re-opened his eyes and was blinking slowly. His breathing was laboured, and his face pale and sweating. His hand was hovering over his side as if he were too afraid to touch it.

"How long have you been lying here?" Mckay asked as he looked over his shoulder to the door.

Sheppard weakly tried to move and Mckay pressed a hand down onto his shoulders to keep him immobile.

He didn't answer, just made eye contact with him, and pulled in an excruciatingly painful breath of air.

"What?!" a look of horror passed over Mckay's features as realisation dawned, "_All_ night?"

Sheppard tried to move again, it was obvious that he was having trouble breathing.

"No, don't move."

"Can't….breathe," Sheppard managed to say as Mckay watched his hands ball into fists.

He coughed and Mckay felt nauseous when he saw blood colouring his lips.

Internal bleeding. Mckay swallowed thickly, the taste of fear acidic in his mouth. Sheppard was going to die and it was going to be all his fault.

"Jes-" Sheppard strangled out from his throat and squirmed weakly as his need for air grew and the pain in his chest swelled.

"You shouldn't move, just lie where you are."

Sheppard rolled his eyes and laughed feverishly, "I have…" he choked and tried to get up again, "All night."

"What happened?" Mckay asked and he tried to get Sheppard to look at him.

He needed to keep him talking. He needed for him to stay awake, long enough for Carson to reach them.

Sheppard's eyes were tracking him sluggishly as he replied, "Fell. Floor was wet."

Sheppard was clearly disorientated, his words coming out in a thick slur.

"Would you _quit_ moving," Mckay held his hand down onto his chest and felt a pang of guilt.

Sheppard's eyes were drifting closed again with the mere effort of staying conscious.

"Oh _no_," Mckay reached out and placed a hand under his chin, "You have to stay awake."

"M' tired," Sheppard mumbled.

"Sheppard!" Mckay gave him a shake, "Sheppard! You have to stay awake."

He slapped the side of his face, "Open your eyes."

Sheppard was unresponsive.

Mckay ran over to the door and looked out in the hallway, "Come on Carson, where are you?"

He was pacing and wringing out his hands in a bid to try and diffuse any panic that was beginning to set in. Who was he kidding? Panic had set in the moment he had seen Sheppard passed out on the floor. This was now just a delayed, hysterical reaction to his situation. It wasn't helpful, but his own constant babbling was soothing in ways he couldn't put into words.

He turned back to where Sheppard was lying, his mind working overtime to guilt him. All night? He had been lying there all night? Why hadn't he just gone into Sheppard's room, then he would have found him and………..He shook his head. This was Carson's fault. If he hadn't told everyone to leave Sheppard alone then this would never have happened.

The rational part of his brain kicked in and reminded him that Carson couldn't have possibly known this would happen. How could he predict that Sheppard would slip on his own floor?

Mckay ran back over to Sheppard and felt for a pulse. Only this time, there was no flutter underneath his fingertips. He lowered his head onto Sheppard's chest and tried to listen for a heart beat, anything to confirm that he was still with him.

"No," Mckay tried to think.

CPR. He had to perform CPR. But did you perform CPR on someone who had obviously broken their ribs? What if Sheppard had punctured his lungs? Was that going to work?

He found himself staring at the blood on Sheppard's lips and his mind started to weigh up the risks of infection? Blood to saliva transmission and-

"Crap!"

Mckay was beginning to feel hysterical.

"You can't die you idiot!"

Sheppard's lips were turning blue. Blue? What was that now? What did that mean? He felt Sheppard's forehead and the searing heat that it was emanating. He wasn't cold so why was he turning blue.

"Colonel!" Mckay tried to order him awake.

Ah, who was he kidding? Sheppard didn't follow his own militaries orders, why would he follow Rodney Mckay's?

He was wracking his brain and trying to recall the enforced medical lessons that all personnel had gone through. He had learned about chest compressions and what to do if someone was choking but…………….

_The blood? Maybe….._

Mckay grabbed Sheppard by the shoulders and then tried to push him onto his side.

"Come _on_," Mckay muttered as he rolled him.

At first there was no response and Sheppard lay limply.

"Come on! _Cough_. It. Up!"

Mckay gave him a pat on the back, worried that any force would break something else.

"Sheppard!"

The silence had been over-bearing, the tension unremitting but suddenly, Sheppard started to gag and he coughed up the blood that had been pouring into his throat. While he took in a few shallow ragged breaths and clawed at the ground, Mckay pushed his head onto his chest and was relieved to hear the strong beat of his heart.

"It's okay," Mckay said throwing a glance over his shoulder.

"Don't ever save me…again," Sheppard muttered weakly.

It wasn't exactly what Mckay had been expecting. A 'thank you' would have been nice.

"What?" Mckay couldn't believe that Sheppard was still holding a grudge when he was lying there dying.

It had felt like an eternity when Beckett rushed into the room with his medical staff trailing behind with a gurney.

Mckay continued to hold onto Sheppard, unable to let him go, "I uh…I rolled him, he was choking and I didn't know if I should do CPR and-"

Beckett placed a firm hand onto his arm and smiled quickly, "You did the right thing Rodney. Now take a step back and let my team get to him."

Mckay eyed the nurse who took over critically and then shuffled backwards to allow them more room to work, "Is he….is he going to be okay?"

Beckett was already taking control of the situation and busily started to look over the Colonel. He took out his penlight and checked Sheppard's pupil reactions, commented that they were sluggish and then moved on to check his superficial injuries. The cut to his elbow was deep, would require stitches, but wasn't life threatening. He had a bump on his head which was swollen and accounted for Sheppard's decreased reactions. After listening to Sheppard's chest he had a grim look on his face, "It sounds like his left lung has collapsed which means he's probably aspirating blood."

Mckay turned to one of the nurses for an explanation but she was securing an oxygen mask over Sheppard's face.

Beckett looked to one of his nurses, "I need you to go ahead of us and prep the surgery. We're going to need to put a chest tube in and intubate."

"Chest tube?" Mckay looked from one supposed medical professional to another and found an explanation came short, "Is he okay?"

As if to answer the question, Sheppard bucked under Beckett's hands as he choked again. He let out a low groan and twisted on the floor.

"Colonel," Sheppard couldn't quite focus even as Beckett gripped him either side of the face, "Colonel."

Sheppard met his eyes. The inside of the oxygen mask was steaming up with every quick successive breath.

"We're going to get you fixed up."

Sheppard coughed again and tried to pull out of Beckett's careful grasp.

"Uh.." He moaned pitifully.

"Your lung has collapsed and that's why you're having trouble breathing." The gurney was collapsed beside the Colonel, ready to take him away.

Sheppard's eyes were moving around the room and Mckay realised that his eyes stopped on his.

"You're going to be alrigh-" Mckay was starting to say, when Sheppard coughed again and the inside of the oxygen mask was sprayed with blood.

Beckett's eye widened and he moved Mckay out of the way, "Okay, we need to move him carefully."

Mckay watched helplessly.

"On three."

Sheppard was clawing at the floor again – fighting with every dying breath.

"One, two, three." Sheppard was gently placed onto the gurney and secured with buckles.

Mckay continued to stay on his knees, his mind not quite able to take in what had happened. He found his eyes scanning the spot where Sheppard had been lying and he didn't take them off it until he heard the Sheppard had come out of surgery.

---------------------

Beckett walked out of surgery, tossed his surgical gloves and gown into a nearby waste disposal unit and tiredly walked out in the waiting area.

He felt sick and guilt was warring with what he knew couldn't possibly be his fault. There was no way that he could have predicted that Sheppard would injure himself in his own room.

Maybe he should have kept him in the infirmary……….what? and risk exposing him to a virulent strain of flu which could have caused further complications?

He pulled himself out of his reverie and regarded his friends solemnly.

Mckay, Doctor Weir, Teyla and Ronon were all sitting side by side with matching grim expressions.

Mckay was the first to spot him and jumped out of his seat, "Is he okay?"

Beckett crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam, hoping that his exhaustion wasn't blatant, "He's stabilised."

"We were very worried," Teyla said exhaling a breath of relief.

Beckett held his hands up to quell their excitement. They had to be realistic. He had to let them know of the real risks involved. The envisaged technical hitches.

"He's not completely out of the woods."

Beckett cringed and he noted that Mckay did the same. _Out of the woods!_ That's how it all started. "We put a chest tube in to drain any fluids out of his lungs, repaired the damaged lung and put him on the ventilator to assist him with his breathing. If he stays in bed and rests up, he should heal in no time."

Mckay dropped his head into his hands and gave his face a scrub, "Oh, thank god."

"I can't believe he lay there all night," Elizabeth said.

She wasn't the first or the last to feel bad. They were all feeling guilt in one way or another. Some were just slightly more pronounced.

"Aye, it's a good job Rodney found him when he did," Beckett noted grimly.

"Can I see him?" Mckay asked.

"The nurses are just getting him comfortable. I'm going to monitor his breathing and if it improves over the next few hours then I will be taking him off the ventilator."

"That soon?"

"The Colonel can breathe fine on his own; the ventilator is just giving him a little extra oxygen at the moment."

-----------------

Mckay walked into the infirmary just in time to see Beckett pulling the tube out of Sheppard's throat. Sheppard coughed, doubled over and proceeded to hit the bed railing with his fist until he'd stopped gagging and his eyes had ceased watering.

Beckett passed him some ice chips, patted him on the back and then gave Mckay a look that said '_don't keep him up too long'_ before leaving to dispose of the ventilating equipment.

Mckay leaned against the bed railing and clasped his hands together.

Sheppard was still gagging and flicking his tongue out in disgust.

"How are you doing?" Mckay asked, for want of something to fill the silence.

Sheppard turned to him and pointed at his throat, "Sore," he rasped.

He was still colourless and he looked older somehow.

Mckay nodded lamely. When had their conversations become so awkward? It had never been the case before.

Sheppard seemed to pick up on it too and he sat back, crossed his arms and then licked his lip. He was going to say something. It wasn't out of romantic interest that Mckay picked up on the lip lick. He just _knew_ Sheppard enough by now to know his nuances and the lip lick meant he was about to speak.

"I'm-"

"Ha!" Mckay crossed his arms over his chest and smiled smugly, "I _knew_ it!"

Sheppard's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "What?" he rasped like a man that had smoked an entire pack of lucky strikes.

"I knew you were going to speak," Mckay pointed at him. It was childish. It was puerile. But Sheppard was alive. He hadn't gone and died like he would have just despite Mckay.

Sheppard sighed and reached up to rub his sore throat, "Would you…..shut up…..about the lip thing?" he closed his eyes wearily and when he opened them, his look was resolute, his features hardened and his demeanour serious.

"Look," he said wincing and massaging his throat, "I was out of line…..before…with the-"

Mckay found his eyes widening and he held his hands up to stop Sheppard, "What kind of drugs are they giving you?"

Sheppard didn't do open. It had to be the drugs he was on. He always complained about them making him feel weird and talkative and if he was apologising to Mckay then he must be on some pretty good-

"Just shut up Rodney," Sheppard said with a little more force and looked to regret it instantly when it hurt his ravaged throat. Mckay had never been intubated before, but he figured it must hurt like a bitch going in and coming out.

"Rodney," Sheppard tried again, "I shouldn't have……snapped. The truth is…" Sheppard paused and looked down at his fingers. He was plucking at the covers uncomfortably, "You showed good…" he stumbled, "-reflexes and……"

Mckay felt his eyebrows rising in surprise. The words '_good reflexes'_ and '_Rodney Mckay'_ didn't tend to go together in the same sentence.

"Just…" Sheppard looked over to the far wall, not meeting Mckay's eyes, "..don't do it again."

"I won't," Mckay said before he could stop himself.

"Next time…..I'll take the fall," Sheppard cringed.

Mckay smiled, "And not literally." He sidled towards the end of the bed, "I'll never save you're life again. I promise."

Sheppard nodded and lay back stiffly and closed his eyes.

"You know," Mckay said, "It's not like I was even trying to save you."

Sheppard cracked one eye open.

"You were in my way and I pushed you so I could get away first….."

Sheppard opened his other eye and couldn't help but smile.

"So, it was selfish really. I mean," Mckay forced a laugh for their benefit, "Me save you? Nope. I'll leave the heroics to you."

Sheppard shook his head and closed his eyes again.

"We're good…right?"

Sheppard pulled the covers up and rested his hands on his sore side, "We're good."

----------------------------

As Sheppard started to drift off, he could hear Beckett's voice getting farther and farther away.

"_Rodney, leave the man alone now. He needs to sleep."_

"_Hey, I left him alone and look what happened to him! Who's to say he doesn't brain himself with a bedpan or choke on an ice chip?"_

"_Rodney, the man his fine."_

"_You know it's your fault! If you hadn't told him to bed rest then-"_

"_You pushed him down a hill!"_

"_No, he fell."_

"_After you pushed him and it's not my fault that……………Rodney, just leave."_

"_Fine. I'm going. But I'm coming back."_

"_Great, wonderful. Goodnight Rodney. Get some sleep."_

Silence.

Sheppard rolled over and felt a twinge in his side.

He'd always take the fall. For his friends. For Rodney. If only not to admit that he'd rather them lose him, than he lose them.


End file.
